Pojoe Narrative

Pojoe
Before this happened to me I thought dogs didn’t really have feelings or understood what was going on.
After this happened to me I learned dogs are very similar to people and can get sad too.
This is important because a lot of people don’t understand that dogs are very fragile inside just like people are.

My mom and my dad got me a pit bull whenever we moved into our new house across from my friend, Emmett. His name was something like pecan or peaches, but since I was so mad I had to get a big dog instead of a puppy, I didn’t even care about his name so I called him Pojoe. After that day the name just stuck to him and even my whole family called him Pojoe. I and he started to build a special bond that no one could take away from us.
He was there for me and comforted me when my mom and dad argued and yelled and threw things around the house. I cried and pet him in my room as I listened to them go back and forth about money and bills. He was always there for me. “Go take Pojoe out,” my mom shouted from her room across from mine. “Ughh,” I mumble. “Pojoe! Come here!” After a couple of seconds of waiting, I went out to my living room to see what was taking him so long. Right in the kitchen I saw a chunk of poop. “POJOE!” I yelled. “You’re getting tied up,” I hooked him onto his leash and walked him to the post outside. I would have 10 seconds to clean it up before my mom saw what he had done. “I’m getting tired of Pojoe, Marquis.” She told me after I had cleaned up what he did. “I know.” I said back to her with guilt in my voice. I knew she started to dislike Pojoe from the numerous times he used to bathroom in our house. I went to go check on him outside. I always felt bad when he had to be put out. “I wonder why he always does this.” I thought in my mind, “He never did this in our old house.”
Then it got to me.
Maybe he’s just as stressed as me and my mom are about the change. He did have a close relationship with my dad. “Come on Pojoe,” I said while I untied him from the post. “Wake up,” my mom shouted. “Pojoe pooped in the house again.” “Again?” “Yes, and I’m fed up.” She told me with a stern voice. Later that day I got home from school and was greeted by some more poop to clean up.
“I’m tired of cleaning this up Pojoe.” I told him while I walked to get paper towels and cleaning spray. Not long after that my mom came home with bad news.
“Marquis?” She called from the front door.
“Yes?” I shouted back.
“Come here, I have some good and bad news,” she said after the closed the door.
“Bad first.” I told her with a shaky voice.
“We have to get rid of Pojoe.” She told me waiting for my reaction. An awkward silence filled the room, including Pojoe.
“What’s the good news?” I asked her as tears rolled down my cheek.
“I’ve found him a good home, with a big yard and a nice family,” she said and wiped my tears. The next day we took him to his new home. It was hard to see him leave, but I hoped he would like it there. After that day I always wondered if he would miss me. I gave up on our bond. I still think about him, and I hope he thinks about me sometimes
too.